***This is an excerpt from Embracing Calla by Tamara Mapstead.
Chapter Two
Calla: Tuesday, June 1st, 2021
It’s the first day of June, and over the past week I’ve shocked even myself with all the crazy things I’ve done. I went and looked at an apartment, and I decided to get it. Yesterday, I put in my notice to leave my current apartment, and I should be in the new place on the 1st of July. I’ve never been spontaneous, but I’m no longer happy with my current place, and I want a fresh start.
I hope I know what I’m doing. I never make decisions on my own, and this one is massive. Moving is complicated and tedious, but something about my current place is making me uncomfortable, and it isn’t my style. Yes, Calla, good decision, I assure myself.
I mess with my eyelashes as I brew coffee in the waiting room’s coffee nook. Why do my lashes hate me?
“Dr. Mills?” I jump. Benedict is standing behind me with his head cocked to the side. Is he admiring me? Of course not, Calla.
“Benedict, can you give me a minute?” I turn on my heels and walk back into my office. I’m prepared this time with notes to ask him more things about his past relationships. I’m taking it one step at a time.
I send a message to Mary, saying that I’m ready. Damn, I forgot my coffee.
I hear Mary say, “Mr. Anderson, Calla will see you now.”
He walks through the door and closes it. He knows the drill by now.
“Good morning, Benedict.” I sit on my desk as he sits in the chair, not responding to me. Where are my notes? “Would you like some water?”
“Sure.” I send Mary a message, asking for water. He seems on edge, more so than ever. His eyes are red and so is the tip of his nose.
“Is everything okay, Benedict?” I’m truly concerned.
“No. It’s not. I think I should start now, because I only have fifty-seven minutes.”
Mary knocks and enters with some water for Benedict and the coffee I forgot. I take a sip. He fidgets with the water bottle and when Mary leaves he sets it between his legs.
“I want to talk now.” His tone is soft. I hop down and sit in the chair next to him. “I’m tired of being sad. I’ve never talked about anything to anyone. I hoped it would go away, and well, it never did. It just got worse.”
Does he trust me? “Healing doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time, but talking helps. It makes you acknowledge what you need to work on and learn from. Life is hard.”
He has so much fear in his eyes. “I have so much I want to say, but I’m afraid you’ll hate me if I get out what hurts the most.”
For the first time in two years, I think today just might be a cry day. “I don’t think you could say anything to me that would make me hate you. If you didn’t harm someone or murder someone, then I think we will be okay.” My hand is on his hand.
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get it out,” he confesses.
“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Just talk. I’ll always listen and be there for you,” I assure him.
“I started dating Bree when I was twenty. I don’t remember how it happened, but we ended up in a class together, and it felt like none of the past had happened. It was easy to be friends with Bree, and then one day we were dating.”
He’s staring up at the ceiling, scowling at every word he says. “I never would’ve thought we could last as long as we did. I was never happy with anything. I wanted her to love me, and she never did. I was also very sexually frustrated with her. She never seemed like she even wanted to have sex with me. It was all a mess.” He tugs on the crew neck of his shirt like it’s choking him.
“I never felt like I was good enough for her in anything. I found myself always feeling pressured to be like Sebastian. I wasn’t him, and I always felt like she wanted me to be him. I was always wondering if she was cheating on me with him.
“It was never-ending, this battle of only being good at one thing, and Sebastian on a pedestal. Everyone loved him, and he loved no one. I’m this hopeless romantic trying so hard to do everything and anything I could do to make her love me, or at least like me how she liked him.”
A tear percolates in the corner of his eye. “I did this for five years, and if what happened didn’t happen, I would probably still be putting up with this bullshit today.” That sigh was how pathetic he felt.
“Did she compare you to him, or was it you?” I ask.
“It was both of us. I thought we were good, but when Sebastian came back around, I would never let them be alone. I would be uncomfortable if they were talking to each other.”
“Was this the woman from high school that Sebastian broke the bro-code with?” The name sounds familiar, but I should just make sure.
“Yes, she’s the one I liked that he had sex with.” He opens his water and takes a drink. He continues. “I wanted to make love and give her what she wanted, but she seemed like she always wanted to get it over with.”
I’m starting to think they weren’t sexually compatible. He’s sensual, and she sounds highly sexual. I still believe that everyone could use a bit of sex therapy, and this is why.
He stares out my patio door at the cars passing by.
My hair tickles my nose. “Need a break?”
“Maybe a minute.” He drinks some more water.
I take another sip as well. Coffee makes me wiser. I keep telling myself that just so I can drink more…
